Spare Parts
by lena1987
Summary: A collection of unrelated SS/HG drabbles (2-400 words). Fluff, romance, constant happy endings and laughs. Prompts provided by the wonderful readers of 'Hour Follows Hour'.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** This is even worse for me, as not only do I not own the characters, but for most of these, I can't even lay claim to the plot line! Here follows the drabbles (generally 2-300 words) for those that found the answers in the last chapter of 'Hour Follows Hour'. Expect fluff, and lots of it because I'm on the couch with my biccies and ready to write some romance! They're all unrelated for now.

* * *

 _ **Prompt from:**_ _Zuluqueenofthepygmies2 - Vegas!_

 **Sin City**

"Hermione!"

She ran to his side as soon as his loud voice carried through the casino, pushing away the feathered boas and dancing girls as she weaved around the gambling tables. They'd separated early on in the evening, as her desire to see the lights and sights far overrode Severus' interest in actually participating.

Or so she'd thought.

"Severus! What? Are you alright?!"

 _Oh, god._

Had there ever been a more beautiful sight before her? No, probably not.

Although, come to think of it, perhaps sexy was a better word?

Severus Snape stood at the very centre of the table, clad in a midnight black tuxedo, complete with a slightly off centre bowtie. His customary smirk was painted on his features as he rolled the dice casually in the palms of his hands.

"I believe," he began, voice all silk, "that I may have _won!"_ Only a tiny hint of his voice breaking at the end betrayed his excitement, but she knew him better than anyone; Severus Snape was positively _prancing_ with elation.

Yep. Hermione stood by her second opinion. Sexy was the right word. Sex on a stick, even.

 _Phwoar!_ Yes. A _phwoar_ moment indeed.

Hermione bit her lip and sidled closer, grinning up at her husband as she slid an arm around his waist. He bent his head close to her ear, impervious to the gaggle of the crowd that had built around them while he had played the game.

"I seem to recall something about a … _reward_ for coming to this _insufferable_ city," he murmured, his breath tickling her ear. She shivered at the feel of his hand tracing circles on the skin of her back, bare from the daring red dress she wore, and shrugged innocently.

"I don't have the faintest idea what you're ta- ah! Severus!"

"Enough, woman," he growled, having lifted her off her feet as if she were a first year. He set a quick pace as he strode towards the elevators. "There is a special corner in hell reserved for this place, and if you're not naked in our bed with a feather boa 'round your neck in" – he checked his watch – "five minutes, then I'll donate all of these winnings to Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes instead of S.P.E.W. Don't make that face, I know you're still running it on the side, naughty minx."

He didn't have to tell her twice.


	2. Chapter 2

Err, obviously I fail at sticking to a word limit.

* * *

 _ **Prompt from:**_ _Banglabou; Pet sitting and the Princess Bride!_

 **Anybody Want a Peanut?**

"Shite!"

"Settle down, Hermione. It can't be that bad!"

"Oh, god, it is Ginny!" Hermione's shrill voice echoed in the bathroom. "This was the big test! The way I'd show him that I'm responsible and _wifely_! I've ruined everything!"

The phone was wedged firmly between her ear and shoulder as she looked into the toilet bowl, utterly mortified. She wrung her hands then tuned back in to Ginny's attempts to placate her.

"Listen, it's fine! It's not like you did it to a _child!"_

"Really? I mean – are you sure?" Hermione eyed the limp, orange figure in the water. "Double shite! Ginny – maybe this is a test for _my suitability as a mother!_ And I've failed! I've just killed my child and dumped it in the toilet!"

"Shouldn't you be saying _our_ child?"

 _Oh, bollocks!_

Hermione turned around and openly cringed at the blank look on Severus' face, his arms full of fish and chips. They'd been seeing each other (or courting, depending on which half of the couple one spoke to) for six months and tonight was _the_ night. He'd left her alone in his townhouse (the very first time he'd done so!) and she'd been determined to run a tight ship while he ducked down to the chippy. It didn't hurt that she'd also been imagining ripping the man's clothes off and licking the vinegar from his fingers while she (yes, she – Hermione was bloody well eager, all right?) rogered him senseless on the couch.

Oh, she'd run a tight ship. Yes, she certainly had.

She'd killed his sodding goldfish!

Mumbling a hushed goodbye to Ginny, she set the phone down and grimaced when Severus pointed at the toilet.

"Is that…?"

"It is." She swallowed and nodded. "It's Sybill. Oh, I'm so _sorry,_ Severus! I've cocked it all up!"

He stepped closer and took a long look at the golden, prone fish. Hermione had no idea at all what was running through his mind, but his softened gaze when he straightened up was almost her undoing.

She plundered on ahead, waving her arms in the air so he wouldn't speak. "Look, I'll-I'll bury it. Or just flush it. Bugger. I'll say a eulogy!" Hermione pivoted around and knelt beside the bowl. "Sybill?"

There were muffled sounds coming from behind her; her heart broke, picturing Severus sobbing into his hands as he faced the murderer of his beloved familiar.

"Sybill," she began firmly. "You were a decent fellow. Personally, I think you were a fellow – those eyes looked masculine, no matter what Severus says. And I hate that I killed you – at the prime of your life! Severus? Would you like to say anything?"

When Hermione looked at Severus again, it was to see the man with tears rolling down his cheeks and a hand clapped over his mouth.

"Oh, love…" She cringed again, feeling her own eyes begin to swim. "I really am sorry…"

"No…" he managed to say. His normal smooth, velvet voice was shaking. " _I'm_ sorry Hermione. I know you're upset… you've obviously worked yourself into a bit of a state…"

"Erm…?"

"But… well… this really is the funniest bloody thing I've seen in years. Sybill was on the way out, I'm afraid. Didn't you see how mournful Irma's been acting? She's been swimming around her all week. Or him – could be a he, I suppose…" Severus trailed off, looking thoughtful.

 _Funniest bloody thing he's seen in years? Who does he think he is? Oh sod it, I don't even care. On with the rogering!_


	3. Chapter 3

_**Prompt from:**_ _Phangirl1983; Uncovering their feelings through music._

* * *

 **Midnight Special**

Her stomach fluttered and flipped as she sank more comfortably into the pillows at the end of the couch, tucking her feet under her legs. Drawing in a deep breath, Hermione eyed the black haired man sitting in the wingback chair who was looking back at her with a small smile playing on the corner of his mouth.

"Come now, Miss Granger. Are you giving up?"

"Hermione," she corrected him for what felt like the hundredth time. "And of course not!" She sipped at her tea, her fingers tapping on the rim of the half full cup. How bold could she afford to be? Surely she had been more than obvious? She only ever sat with him these days in the Great Hall, and he had been added to her wards a _month_ ago, for Merlin's sake. Even the _ghosts_ had noticed that she fancied him, as well as what felt like the entire teaching body.

 _Bugger it!_

"You opened up your door, I couldn't believe my luck." So very, very true.

"Crowded House," he said decisively, nodding his head. "Next."

She grinned. "You've been learning baby, I've been yearning."

"Led Zeppelin."

Were his cheeks flushed? No… a trick of the light, perhaps?

"I need you tonight, 'cause I'm not sleeping…"

"INXS."

Hermione cleared her throat and shifted closer, tilting her head and watching with amazement as he swallowed and matched her movement with the slow descent of his mouth to hers.

"In your eyes… I am complete."

"Are you?" he asked breathlessly, eyes so dark they were almost black roaming over her face but returning to watch as her tongue darted out to moisten her lips.

Her whisper was more timid than it should've been for a woman well into her thirties, but sod it all, she was so madly in love that it hurt. "Are you giving up?"

Severus shook his head. "Never. Peter Gabriel."

"Right, well-"

He silenced her with a soft touch of his index finger to her lower lip. "Enough games, Hermione."

"Truly?"

"Madly, deeply," he said with a low laugh, delighting in her gasp.

"Savage Garden!"

"Correct."

"And…" she looked down, then back to him, stunned at how close he'd become. "Kiss me."

"Are you the author? Or is it that warbling red haired squib you've been listening to lately?"

"No," Hermione whispered. "I'm the author. Kiss me?"

The touch of his warm, hesitant lips on hers was everything she'd imagined heaven to be, and more.


	4. Chapter 4

_**Prompt from:**_ _Waitin4You86; Proposal fails, ribbons and Crookshanks!_

 **To Have and To Hold**

Severus Snape had the perfect plan.

Nothing at all could go wrong.

"Did you hear that, Crooks? _Nothing!"_ he hissed at Hermione's familiar, currently weaving between his legs and eyeing the dangling red ribbon with interest. "Leave it, cat!"

The first time he was about to propose, he forgot the ring on the work bench in the laboratory at the back of their apothecary. It was a first year's mistake, and not one he was ever going to make again.

The second time, Severus took Hermione to a flower show, intending to go down on bended knee in the middle of the exhibit on Japanese cherry blossom trees.

Did you know Hermione is allergic to cherry blossoms? It's quite a sight – her lips puff up and her hormones run all over the place. She's quite prone to hexing when in such a state. Are you sure you didn't know?

No? Well, neither did Severus.

He almost gave up after the third. He took her to Monet's Garden in Giverny and warded the bridge over the lily pond, so any would-be visitors turned away and remembered a fervent need for the loo. It would have been more prudent to watch his step, but alas, the excitement was almost overwhelming and as he turned away from Hermione for a moment to retrieve the ring out of his pocket, he overstepped and ended up falling face first into the sodding prize winning lilies. To top it all off, he'd forgotten to add her to the actual wards and so she'd hauled him out of the pond then sped off to the toilet for the afternoon, leaving him dripping on bloody Claude bloody Monet's pebbled bloody path.

To say he was mortified was an understatement.

This was the last attempt. If it didn't work, he was just going to get drunk and blurt it out. Bugger the dreamy eyed, hopeful expression Hermione had worn ever since she'd caught him checking out rings in display windows six months before.

It was her birthday, her twenty fifth. He'd fretted and worried over what to get her, when she'd snuck up behind him and squeezed his arse this morning with a, "I love you just the way you are!" she'd said. "God, just wrap yourself up in a ribbon and that's my birthday present right there! Just make sure you're naked underneath. Yum!"

But Severus had not factored in her beast of a familiar.

"Crookshanks!"

Severus stared down at the animal, putting all of his power behind his glare. "Do not – I repeat, do _not_ touch the ribbon! Oh – fuck, no, Crookshanks!"

Just as the cat began to swipe at the ends of the bow, he heard the key in the front door. "Shite! Crookshanks!"

It was of no use.

When Hermione walked in, it was to see her lover of two years standing in the middle of the sitting room, naked as the day he was born with his penis sticking out of a hole in the massive red bow covering his mid-section. The hole was shaped suspiciously like Crooks' teeth.

"Oh my _god!"_ She dropped her shopping, jaw wide open. "Severus!"

"Marry me!" he blurted out, unable to even try to explain himself any better. Crooks shot him a glare as if to say, _the cat is out of the bag now mate, pardon the pun and/or innuendo._ Severus closed his eyes, unwilling to submit himself to further humiliation and instead soldiered on with his speech, "You're beautiful, intelligent, bloody annoying, somewhat insufferable yet undeniably irresistible, snarky, witty, hormonal half the time, you fit just under my chin as if you were made to be within my arms and…" he heaved a breath, "absolutely perfect for me. Be. My. Witch, Hermione Granger. Have children with me. Grow old with me. Marry me."

…

Severus Snape and Hermione Granger-Snape were married six months later, hand-fasted before close friends and family. If anyone pondered on the unusual, bright red colour of the bridal ribbon that bound their hands together, they wisely said nothing at all.


	5. Chapter 5

_**Prompt from:** hollowg1rl; A relationship outside the teacher/student universe._

* * *

 **Chocolat**

 **Saturday**

The waffles were always toasted at exactly 7:43 in the morning, ready for him to stride through the already unlocked door.

"Granger!" Severus barked, wondering when it was that amusement (and, dare he think it, fondness) had begun to creep its way into his usual greeting. "Must you always fill the air with such frivolous scents?"

Hermione would laugh or bat her eyelashes, depending on how daring she was feeling. Today she did both, causing Severus to blink. She gestured to his favourite table and brought him his one weekly indulgence: waffles, slices of fresh banana and strawberries and drizzles of chocolate over the entire plate. A small, hand painted blue stoneware bowl always sat just to the side with an extra lot of melted milk chocolate for him to spoon into his coffee. Today she set down a small red carnation on the table, then scampered off with a gurgle of laughter, leaving Severus staring after her with a faint smile playing on his lips.

 **Tuesday**

"Severus?" Hermione poked her head inside the Apothecary next door and smiled at the tall, pale man behind the counter. "Ready?"

He gave a sigh akin to the long suffering man through the ages and shrugged. "As always."

She moved through to the back of the shop and sat down at the table in the library, noting the single tulip sitting in a miniature vase beside the chess board. Her smile lit up the room.

 **Thursday**

At 7:45am, Severus walked hesitantly into _Chocolat,_ eyes closing immediately as the enticing smells drifted over his body.

"Severus?"

Hermione stood hesitantly near the display of cakes and pastries, tying on her red apron with a small smile. "Thursday mornings now? This is new."

He swallowed and nodded slowly. "In a way, perhaps it is."

 **Friday**

"Would you..." Hermione cleared her throat and moved forward until she was within touching distance. "Would you care to join me? I've already put the kettle on..."

Severus watched as she made up a small tray with the pastries she knew he would never admit to loving, then turned on her heel and began to walk up the stairs.

"Well?" She looked at him over her shoulder. "Are you going to join me?"

His answer was immediate and sure. "Hermione, I..." he paused and looked around at the shop now bathed in moonlight, then turned his gaze back to the woman at the top of the stairs. "I would like that very, very much."


	6. Chapter 6

**_For:_** _Sassyluv - something silly!_

I'm cheating here - this is from a story I've been working on between chapters of 'World Enough & Time'. I'm not 100% sure if I'll publish it, but if I do, it won't be until it's completed. So, this is pre-romance ;-)

* * *

 **The Code**

Hermione sat in the corner of the lunch room on the fourth floor, one hand on her forehead to hold her head up and the other clutching her favourite blue willow cup which was currently filled to the brim with a steaming concoction of coffee and Pepper-Up.

"This is just _foul,"_ she grumbled, eyeing her companion with a suspicious scowl. "You _knew_ it would react terribly with the coffee, didn't you! And you gave it to me all the same! Why aren't _you_ drinking it? I bet you took that yummy one you haven't bothered to patent yet."

Utterly unperturbed, Severus smirked and tapped his nose. "You could've had the 'yummy' one if you had stayed on the couch like I asked."

Hermione scoffed. "Why? Just to hear you shagging the goddess with legs up to her armpits? Gods. I have _morals,_ you know."

"Piffle. Are you jealous?"

"Not on your life," she said, finishing off the drink in one large sip and covering her face with a grimace. "Nnnnnngh. Severus – _please_ don't give me that _ever_ again. And don't keep up with what's-her-name."

"You're a real Debbie Downer this morning, aren't you?"

"Bugger off."

"Don't say such obscene words, say 'pardon, darling'," Severus instructed her with a wolfish grin. "And anyway, I won't be 'keeping up' with her. Nothing even happened."

"Oh?" Hermione perked up and tapped her fingernails on the table. "Well that's good. What went wrong? Did she realise that you're not a billionaire? Or were you too snarky?"

"Not snarky enough," he said, shuddering as he adjusted the collar of his robes. "She wanted me to wear the D.E. mask."

"No!" Hermione squawked and gave a very unladylike snort. "Well, good. She was a bit dull."

"Dull? Not _dull_ , not in the least, but just… entirely too much. And you shouldn't look so happy about it. At least I'm getting out there."

"Psch. Everyone knows that when one is lonely, their best friends aren't allowed to get into functional relationships. It's the code. We have to be lonely together, until we finally find people who will put up with our idiosyncrasies enough to shag us senseless every second night."

"And we are supposed to do this simultaneously? I can't wait around for you, Granger." Severus gestured for her to stand and they cleaned their coffee cups before both shrunk them and put them into their pockets. Cleaning charms were all well and good, but one learnt quickly to never share drinking vessels at the Ministry. Hermione bent down and adjusted the band on her sensibly low heeled black pumps, then wriggled around until her skirt was back in place.

"Just wear robes, Hermione," Severus drawled. "Enough of this pottering around looking like a Muggle secretary."

"Leave off!" She looked down at her dark blue blouse and pencil skirt. "I look very smart. This is all the rage on the High Street."

"Precisely why you _shouldn't_ be wearing it," he remarked dryly. Hermione scowled again and marched past, huffing when two long strides had him catching up with her in time to open the door and wave her out into the corridor. Really! What else was an intelligent, all right looking witch in her thirties to do? She'd even taken to wearing makeup most days, yet still there were no wizards beating down her door. Bloody grumps, the lot of them. Speaking of…

"You tell me what I should wear, Severus. Go on. I know your robes are bringing in the witches by the thousands each day."

"At least I present a consistent image. No one will ever expect me to change for them."

"Mmm yes, but have you even bought new robes since taking this job? We've been here for ten years, and I _know_ that you're wearing the pair you spilt coffee on during our first joint task!"

Severus bought his sleeve up and inspected it. "You can't know that. There's not even a mark here!"

"Ha!" Hermione crowed and elbowed him in the side. "You see? Sad sods, both of us. We'll never find blokes – or birds – looking like we do."

"Then I won't find one," he said vehemently, pausing yet again to open the door for her as they entered the offices of the Department of the Magic Research Committee.


End file.
